


I better read between the lines, in case I need it when I'm older

by buckybunnyteeth



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Cats, Dorks in Love, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 11:37:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15387954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybunnyteeth/pseuds/buckybunnyteeth
Summary: Ronon gives Rodney a Cat. Rodney, promptly and logically, falls in love.





	I better read between the lines, in case I need it when I'm older

“I meant," said Ipslore bitterly, "what is there in this world that truly makes living worthwhile?"

Death thought about it.

CATS, he said eventually. CATS ARE NICE.”

― Terry Pratchett, Sourcery

 

 

“What’s this?”

“Hmm?” Rodney replies rubbing his eyes as he continues to go over the ancient device in front of him. Its supposed to ‘produce an iridescent attack’ whatever that means, but so far, it’s just acting as a big ugly paperweight-

“This.”

A photo frame is shoved under his nose and Rodney jumps.

He jerks back, suddenly realizing he is in his room, not his lab. And that Ronon is standing over him.

“That’s my cat,” he answered.

Ronon flicks the photo frame around and looks down at it. Then he raises an eyebrow at him.

“Cat?”

“It’s a- it’s a small mammal that people one earth sometimes keep in their homes as pets, domestic animal companions. It's actually funny, they domesticated themselves about nine thousand years ago, as people began to domesticate heard animals and live on farms the rodent population-”

“I’ve seen one before.”

Okay. Rodney may be severely sleep deprived-

In fact, he can recall a vague memory of Zelenka calling Ronon to lab to ‘take Rodney away’ as he was ‘drooling all over the ancient devices’, which would explain why both he and Ronon are currently in his room, with him sitting on his bed cradling such device which he must have swiped from the lab on his way out.

-but Rodney knows when he’s being mocked.

“Yeah, I’m sure. And I saw Alanis Morrissette in the mess hall this morning.”

Ronon places the photo back on the desk across the room and turns to him with a shrug.

“I don’t know that guy, but these things live on _T’hark_.”

“Alanis Morissette is- I think that’s the longest sentence you’ve ever said to me.”

Ronon rolls his eyes. He then proceeds to swipe the device from Rodney to push him back on the bed and start undoing his pants.

“Woah!” Rodney shouts, “I-I don’t know-”

“Shut up. You’re going to sleep.”

Due to what Rodney thinks is some kind of magic trick Ronon manages to yank off Rodney’s pants, shoes, and socks at the same time and throw them on the floor. He then manhandles him back into sitting and begins to yank off his shirt and jacket.

“Why do you have a picture of it?”

“Of what?!” he squawks as his face blazes with embarrassment.

“The cat,” Ronon says as he throws his shirt and jacket on the floor and picks up his pajamas which- when did he go through his draws?

“I-” he pauses as Ronon shoves his sleep shirt with mickey mouse on the front (shut up who doesn’t love that stupid mouse …. And Jeanie bought them for him, shut up), “I don’t know. It- Whiskers was my cat for eight years, I got him when he was only a few weeks old. Someone found him and his siblings in a storm drain and rescued them and I saw an ad for him in the paper- I was between military jobs at the time because of an unpleasant run-in with a five-star general.”

Rodney screws up his face as he thinks.

“I loved him. I have the picture because I loved him, and I had to leave him behind.”

Ronon nods. And then he pushes him back on the bed, shoves his pajama pants on, and pushes him down again to tuck him in. It’s only when he is done that Rodney considers the fact that he could have objected.

“I’m sorry you had to leave him.”

“Hmm? Oh well, he’s probably happier. He gets to live with a smoking hot woman now.”

Ronon snorts. He leans down and for one astonishing moment, Rodney thinks he’s about to be kissed by the buffest most monosyllabic man in the Pegasus galaxy. But he just fluffs his pillow and shuts off the overhead light.

“Weir says you need five hours of sleep or I get to tie you to the bed.”

“Kinky.”

Ronon grunts one more time and turns to leave. He has just opened the door when Rodney stops him.

“Hey, Ronon?”

“What?”

“Why did Zelenka call you to get me from the lab?”

“I’m the only one big enough to carry you.”

“You carried me?! Did- did anyone see you- us- me?!”

The door closes on Ronon's smirking face and Rodney has never hated him more.

 

The rest of the team goes on a mission to MC4-502 whilst Rodney stays behind. He and Zelenka are still trying to figure out the Ancient devices that they are theorizing are energy weapons not unlike superpowered flashbangs.

They have been working for six hours straight when Rodney decides he has to go and get something to eat or he is going to rip Zelenka’s head off, or possibly his own.

He goes to the Mess and eats a huge meal that consists mostly of mashes tubers, some kind of roasted avian meat and gravy, along with a salad that he leaves alone because he catches a whiff of lemon in the dressing. The kitchen staff are getting sneaky in their assassination attempts.

He is walking back to the lab when he hears the sound of the gate closing and ducks into the control room. He sees the team and Elizabeth standing in front of the gate, relaxed postures and wide smiles indicating that they aren’t fresh from any kind of Wraith firefight. He starts down the stairs to greet them.

“Hey!” he calls out, mood much improved on a full stomach, “How was, uh, MC4-502?”

“Uneventful,” Teyla answers, smiling softly and inclining her head in greeting to him, “We have made contact with the people and they are open to talks on trade.”

“They’re about forty of so years behind what we are on earth, but science wise they’re eager,” Shepard explains with a shrug, “Could be helpful against the wraith. And they have had a large harvest the past few years.”

“Good,” Elizabeth agrees, “I’ll look at your report and assemble a team for negotiations as soon as possible, Colonel.”

“Have it on your desk in an hour.”

Elizabeth raises an eyebrow.

“…Okay, two hours.”

She nods, amused and leaves.

“Are you sure we should be dealing with these people scientifically, I mean the Hoffans were eager for our scientific knowledge too. They could be the Hoffans version two.”

“The _T’harkians_ aren’t like that,” Ronon says.

“ _T’harkians_?” Rodney asks, turning to face Ronon for the first time, “That name sounds familiar.”

“Very Star Trek,” Sheppard teases and claps him on the shoulder as he leaves, stopping to give Ronon a significant look that makes Rodney’s frown deepen.

Teyla sends him a similar look as she leaves and- Okay, what is happening and why dose Rodney feel like he’s out of the loop?

“What’s going on?” he asks Ronon.

Ronon grabs him by the front of the shirt and drags him up the stairs.

“Okay-” he trips on the stairs slightly and hears a string of giggles from behind him, “Okay! I can walk on my own, Conan!”

“Ronon.”

“I know that! It- it was a joke.”

“Wasn’t funny.”

“Oh, for the love of- will you stop yanking me around-”

Phrasing.

“-and tell me what the hell is happening right now!”

“I got something for you.”

“A knuckle sandwich?”

Ronon isn’t impressed by his loud voice and flailing. He ignores him and drags him through the halls of Atlantis until they reach Rodney’s room. He then pushes Rodney down on the bed and for the second time this week he thinks he is about to be kissed by the most devastatingly handsome man in the Pegasus Galaxy.

But Ronon once again doesn’t kiss him.

Instead, he reaches into his coat, his ridiculous Xena level badass coat, and pulls out a-

“Oh my god!” Rodney shouts, “that’s a kitten!”

“The _T’harkians_ calls them _Slomecs_.”

It looks so impossibly tiny in Ronon's large hands. Small, still round and rollie but not so small its eyes haven’t opened yet, and pure white with bright blue eyes.

“The chancellor's daughter gave her to me.”

Yeah, and Rodney’s sure she wasn’t at all flirting with him. If he wasn’t so shocked he would snort derisively.

“Did you smuggle him through the gate? Is this an illegal cat?”

“No. Weir gave me permission.”

The kitten, which had been chewing on Ronon’s sleeve, turns its head to look at Rodney and mews softly. And Rodney can’t ignore a direct order like that. He gently takes the kitten from Ronon and cups it against his chest, over his heart. She rubs her face against his shirt and purrs. Rodney feels himself melt.

“I- … I don’t know what to say,” he admits softly, frowning up at Ronon, “Why would you do this for me?”

Ronon shrugs, usually impassive face suddenly broadcasting his discomfort.

“You missed Whiskers.”

The air suddenly feels punched out of him. Ronon, battle scared and tough as nails Ronon, remembers his old cat's name.

“That still-”

“There are a lot of things I miss,” Ronon crosses his arms, something haunting taking possession of his features, “Can’t bring them back. This was easy.”

The kitten paws at his shirt and Rodney wonders if this is what Disney Princesses feel. Floaty and wonderstruck staring up at an impossibly handsome man who knows violence but had not let a drop of it touch the kind man he is at his core.

His heart is beating a mile a minute.

Fuck.

Oh fuck.

“I- Thank you,” he stumbles, “I-I really… Thank you.”

Ronon smiles his smile that makes you remember how young he is.

“They were gonna get rid of her anyway. Apparently, they have a superstition about white cats.”

“Huh. On earth it's black cats. People associate them with omens and witches, illogical claptrap.”

Ronon chuckles and reaches forward to rub the tiny Kitten behind her ears. Her purrs grow louder, and she shuts her eyes in contentment.

“What should I name her?”

“Dunno,” Ronon shrugs.

“That’s helpful. Names are important.”

“Can’t you just call her Whiskers?”

“I’m going to ignore that because I’m feeling particularly generous towards you today.”

He looks down at the tiny kitten. She looks back with her wide blue eyes. Blue as the sky would get back home, the few times he would leave the light pollution in the city and go out into the woods. His mother would take them out to her father’s cabin on the side of the mountain. He can still remember sitting in front of the giant windows, looking at the sky that seemed to hang just inches above the trees as it changed from bright blue to pitch black when the stars and moon would come out.

“Luna,” he says without thinking.

“Luna,” Ronon repeats, rolling the word over his tongue and spitting it out with an inflection that Rodney’s never heard before, but it somehow makes it more beautiful, “What does it mean?”

“It’s the name of the moon that orbits the earth. It was also the name of a Moon Goddess in an old earth religion. She represented peace.”

Ronon looks down at the kitten who has now fallen asleep. He smiles softly.

“I like it.”

 

Hours later Rodney coms Ronon, waking him up.

“You jerk, you gave me the cat but nothing a cat needs! She just crapped all over my bed! You did this on purpose I’m going to _get_ you so good for this, Dex, I swear I-”

Ronon hangs up.

In the morning he asks Weir to add _Slomec_ supplies to their trade agreement.

 

Ronon gets off his shit list by personally negotiating for a bright blue collar and a set of feathered toys for Luna, along with every ‘essential’ item off an alphabetized list that McKay sends him.

 

It takes less than a week for Luna to get settled in in McKay’s room and then proceed to start fucking shit up exactly like her noble cat ancestors have done for millennia. She figures out how to jump up into shelves and push things off within a week.

She also begins to grow like a weed. Rodney feeds her milk and chicken scraps twice a day and within a few days, she already starts to grow. Rodney takes pictures to document her progression, eager to study how this alien cat race develop compared to earth cats.

(also, the damn Xenobiologists have been harping on him since they discovered he was keeping an alien cat in his room. They damn near broke down his door to come see it, scan it, prod it until she had enough and took a swipe at them).

Luna particularly likes sleeping on his pillow, waking him up at odd hours with loud noises, and playing with the feathered toys Ronon got her.

And Ronon. She really likes Ronon.

She particularly likes riding around on his shoulders and batting around his dreadlocks. Ronon likes indulging her.

Which is why he is currently laying on his back on the floor of Rodney’s room while Luna plays with his hair.

“Huh.”

Ronon looks up at him, the movement of his head shifting his dreadlocks which Luna chases excitedly.

“Says here that the _T’harkian_ cats-”

“ _Slomecs_.”

“-whatever. They used to be much larger animals, kind of like earth tigers. But because of the _T’harkians_ urban sprawl, loss of habitat and domestication, they evolved to be smaller.”

“What are tigers?”

“Uh … remember those dog creatures we can into mission before last?”

“Yeah?”

“Imagine them except they’re cats, about twice the size, and colored orange with black stripes and have teeth as big as knives.”

Ronon smirks.

“Cool.”

Luna gets bored with Ronon's hair and climbs over his face to curl up on his chest. She is purring herself asleep within seconds.

Rodney thinks it’s the most adorable sight he’s ever seen.

Until he looks down at the book in his lap and sees what is written under _Physical Defence Capabilities._

“It also says that _Slomecs_ have kept the ability to spit poison from a sack in their throat like their larger ancestors.”

Ronon's eyes go wide and he looks down at Luna.

“Can earth cats do that?”

“Uh-no, not at all.”

Ronon places a hand on Lunas back and she purrs louder. Then he looks up at Rodney, who is irrationally happy he is sitting up on the bed away from the kitten.

“Better not piss her off then.”

Rodney gulps in agreement.

 

Rodney falls off a cliff on a mission and breaks his leg.

Needless to say, once he gets back to Atlantis and is properly treated he doesn’t much like being trapped in the infirmary.

“Bloody hell, Rodney!” Carson snaps, cutting him off mid-rant about how he can’t leave his idiot colleagues unattended down in the science department lest they blow up the city, “Will you shut up for five minutes!”

Rodney glares.

“Is this what you call bedside manner? Telling your critically injured patients to ‘shut up?”

“You’re not critically injured anymore,” Carson sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I get that you’re in pain and that you’re frustrated, but I can’t get any work done with you screeching like a banshee every five bloody seconds!”

Rodney gapes at his best friend, feels an angry pressure build up inside him and is about to unleash it on him-

When Ronon walks into the room with Luna perched on his shoulders.

“Hey, doc,” he says to Carson as he passes, “He ready for visitors?”

“Well-” Carson eyes the cat, but Ronon wasn’t really asking.

He walks up to Rodney’s bed, nods at him, and then drops Luna down on top of him.

“Hey watch it, I’m-!”

Luna mews up at him, her big blue eyes wide and sparkling. He looks down at her and feels all the fight leave him. He feels tired, his body is distantly throbbing with pain, and the lingering exhaustion from hanging off that cliff is still hanging around. He sinks down into the hospital bed and watches as Luna strolls up him and lays down on his chest, pressing her head up next to him.

“Hey girl,” he says softly, stroking her behind the ears as she purrs, “You miss me?”

Luna squeezes her eyes shut in contentment and Rodney smiles.

Ronon smiles at them both and sits himself down in the chair next to Rodney’s bed. Carson, mouth agog, looks at Rodney and Luna for a long moment before scurrying off, taking advantage of Rodney’s silence to get some work done.

Ronon kicks his legs up on the bed and stares at Rodney.

“What?”

Ronon looks up and away. Rodney recognizes it was something he dose when he’s feeling something, but he doesn’t know how to express it.

Rodney knows it isn’t the way manly-men do their macho thing. It comes from seven years on the run and being hurt more and more every day.

Rodney would kill every single Wraith for what they did to Ronon.

“Um …” Ronon rumbles, “You scared us when you- you know … fell off the mountain.”

Rodney bites back his argument that he did not fall off the mountain, that he was running for his life and noticed the cliff too late and slipped on wet leaves, totally not his fault. The leaves foiled him. Luna licks his cheek and he smiles softly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” Ronon says with a nod, “Don’t do it again.”

Rodney laughs, and Luna opens her eyes to glare at him for being jostled.

“Trust me I will not be jumping at the chance to do it again.”

Ronon meets his eyes just to glare at him for that bad pun. Rodney grins at him.

“Thanks for coming to see me though. Both of you.”

He scratches Luna behind the ears she flicks her tail happily.

“Yeah well,” Ronon smiles at him softly, “This is the only place where they don’t hassle you for reading.”

Ronon pulls out an old paperback novel that one of the earth natives must have given him. Rodney has yet to see a paperback book indigenous to the Pegasus galaxy. _Salem’s Lot_ the cover says.

He drifts off to sleep with Luna purring on his chest and the gentle sound of Ronon turning the pages of his books.

 

SG-1 comes to Atlantis with a crazy plan to defeat the Ori that sounds like a sure-fire way of speeding them all to an early grave. But Elizabeth and Sheppard say he can do it, so he really has no choice in the matter.

He steps out of the meeting, runs to his lab to grab his kit and sprints back. SG-1 are all saying goodbye to one another, Daniel and the new girl Vala being the ones staying behind in Atlantis while Mitchell and Sam take him off on their death mission.

He walks up to them, not interrupting their conversation because he’s not a total heel, and tries not to fidget. He sighs, trying to expel his mounting anxiety, and sees Sam and Daniel share an eye-roll that is frankly hurtful. Sheppard is wrong, he isn’t looking to be a hero in the heat of the moment. He’s looking to stay alive and keep those he loves alive.

And Rodney would be a lot less anxious if he had just-

“Hey.”

Rodney jumps and whirls around, almost smacking into Ronon who had walked up without making any sound.

“Oh, thank god,” Rodney breathes, “I wanted to talk to you before I left but the meeting called me away.”

Ronon and Teyla had opted to make themselves scarce during the visit of SG-1. Teyla had gone to visit her people and Ronon had signed up a full schedule of beating up marines.

Rodney isn’t sure why he is here. Nor why he has Luna held to his chest while she lazily bats at one of his dreads. Or why he is vaguely shiny with sweat and wearing his tight pants today.

Unimportant details, he decides.

“Can you look after Luna, while I’m gone? And in the possible and highly likely event that this mission kills me, will you keep her?”

Ronon raises an eyebrow.

“Okay.”

“Good,” Rodney sighs in relief, “Good, good. All her stuff is in my room, food and toys, you can put her bed in your room if you want-”

“you have a cat?”

Rodney turns around at Sam’s question to see the members of SG-1 all staring at Ronon. Sam and Daniels eyes are assessing if a little appraising, Mitchel is grinning at him like he wants to be his new best friend and Vala is twirling a strand of her hair while she looks at him … dreamily.

“Uh,” Rodney stutters, uncomfortable and unsure as to why- no that’s a lie, unwilling to admit as to why, “It’s a _Slomec_ from _Thark_ , but yeah basically a cat.”

Luna turns her head to him and mews, stretching her paw out at him. Rodney smiles at her and scratches her behind the ears. She’s as big as a full-grown cat now, but they aren’t sure that she’s finished growing.

Mitchells communicator beeps, signaling the Daedalus is in position to beam them aboard. Rodney sighs and turns back to Ronon.

“Just…” he swallows, “Look after the place while I’m gone.”

Ronon looks at him, looks at SG-1 behind him in the same way he looks at guards in untested villages, and then draws him into a crushing hug. His face presses into Ronon's chest and he can’t help but realize how damn good he smells.

“You’re not gonna die, McKay,” Ronon rumbles too him and then break the hug, already turning to walk away, “Suck it up.”

Indignation rises in him.

“Oh! Oh, that’s really nice advice, you got any more words of wis-”

He gets teleported to the Daedalus midsentence.

 

“He seems nice.”

Rodney looks up from the meal to see Sam standing across from him.

“Pardon?”

“That- uh, Ronon? He seems nice.”

Rodney squints up at her.

“He’s okay,” he says suspiciously, “Good with guns and cats.”

Sam smiles, her eyes sparkling.

“Isn’t that all you need?”

She walks away, and Rodney sits there for a good solid ten minutes being confused.

 

It’s the typical Pegasus galaxy village. Perpetually stuck in a rural renaissance style with no scientists to speak of but a thousand people eager to drone on and on about the Ancestors and their divine plans to return and smite the Wraith yadda yadda yadda-

The best part is the feats they throw for them when they ‘defeat the evil spirit’ that’s been terrorizing the town. AKA; they defeat the contingent of Genii soldiers that have been hiding out in the woods and turn off the ancient device that’s been causing the monstrous projections that the town thought was a spirit.

The feast is _phenomenal_. Really top shelf- cakes and pies and fruits and amazing dishes that have no earth equivalents.

Rodney and Ronon set up their usual routine. A dish is passed to them, Rodney glares at it while Ronon eats a slice, grunts or hums, depending on his judgment of it, and then Rodney gets a piece for himself.  

And it works, they streamline the feast through three courses.

Then Ronon leans into his side, says something about hitting the head which Rodney wrinkles his nose up at, and leaves Rodney to his chocolate mouse and strawberry pie.

Rodney eats it happily, chatting lightly with the few people who seek out his attention. He finishes his pie and drinks a pint of apple cider that tastes like sunshine, the kind of sunshine that comes after a long bitter Canadian winter, which is illogical and yet an apt description.

He turns to ask Ronon what he thinks it tastes like and is almost shocked to find he hasn’t come back.

Rodney frowns and gets to his feet, picking up his pint and full one. He has questions that must be answered, damn whatever is keeping Ronon.

He weaves through the crowd, smiling amicably and also glaring at Sheppard when he passes him and he makes a snide remark about weight gain. The whole village is out and celebrating so it's slow going, no wonder Ronon was slow coming back, he would surely be afraid that he was going to step on one of these people-

And then he sees what was keeping Ronon and the bottom of his stomach drops out.

Ronon is leaning back against a garland covered pole while Gleeta, the mayors pretty and bosom blessed daughter, flirts with him. She is smiling up at him, angling her body so Ronon can no doubt see down her blouse, and is- is trailing a hand up Ronon's arm like- like a-

But the worst part is the part where Ronon is smiling back. it's his charming smile. One that Rodney’s ever made appear on his face.

All of a sudden Rodney feels like crying.

It's illogical- he’s not even drunk.

Because he’s been, well he’s been in denial about his feelings for Ronon for weeks and weeks now. Ever since Ronon dragged him to his room and gave him that cat- gave him Luna for the simple reason that he knew it would make Rodney happy, he’s been head over heels for him. He hasn’t let it show, hasn’t let it affect his behavior because Ronon is so obviously out of his league. Ronon is on the ice while Rodney is in the parking lot arguing to be let in without a ticket, that’s how dramatic the gap is.

But still.

Still a small part of him had hoped. Hoped from the way Ronon touched him so freely, how he sought out his company and how he was basically co-parenting his cat that- that maybe-

Ronon laughs at something Gleeta says and Rodney can’t stomach to see anymore.

He turns away from the scene, tosses the cider down on to the closest table and stalks off to the other side of the feast where he knows the alcohol is.

 

Rodney thinks its Telya who picks him up off the bar and drags him to bed. This assumption is based purely off the fact that when he wakes up at night he is tucked in.

His buzz has gone, and he is dreadfully clear headed. He wrestles himself out from under the covers to rub at his face.

There is movement across the room and he startles, suddenly realizing what must have woken him from his alcoholic slumber.

Ronon is sitting in the armchair across the room.

He looks so menacing sitting in a shaft of moonlight, legs crossed, and his unflinching gaze locked on Rodney.

“Where did you go?” Ronon asks, voice low and dangerous.

“Where did I- I was at the feast!”

“I came back, and you weren’t there,” Ronon continues, gaze unflinching despite Rodney’s indignant tone, “Teyla said she put you in here because you got yourself drunk.”

Rodney huffs.

“You were taking too long,” he says sitting up in bed, “I amused myself in your absence. Alcohol was amusing. What’s your problem?”

“My problem?”

Ronon smiles in that dangerous way, that way he sometimes does before a fight.

“We were doing our thing, McKay.”

He says it like it means something, but Rodney knows it doesn’t mean what he want’s it to mean.

“We did our thing,” he all but snaps at Ronon, “Then you left, and I did my own thing. Now I am in bed, where you should also be- in your own bed … or Gleeta’s.”

The snide remark slips out of his mouth before he can stop it.

Ronon frowns.

“Gleeta?” he asks, confused, “What does Gleeta have to do with anything?”

“I just- nothing, forget I said anything.”

“No,” Ronon stands up and stalks over to the bed, “What about Gleeta?”

Rodney huffs in frustration.

“I just- I saw you flirting with her is all,” he admits, losing some of his fire, “I came looking for you and I saw you and her. So, I don’t see why you are getting so upset about me getting drunk without you … you obviously weren’t missing me.”

Ronon looks down at him for a long moment. His eyes look so bright in the dark room, and his expression is fluttering between frustrated and relieved.

Rodney watches him sigh, and his shoulders relax.

“You’re a moron.”

Rodney gapes at him.

“ _What_? How- how dare you, I-”

Ronon grabs him by the front of his shirt and hauls him up, halfway off the bed, and kisses him.

It’s a hot-pressing kiss, the kind of proper kiss that Rodney hasn’t been on the receiving end of in _years_. Its amazing, and mind-boggling and- wait.

He breaks off with a gasp, grasping at Ronon's shoulders when he realizes that his hands fisted in his shirt are the only things keeping him up.

“Where did that come from?” he gasps, mind still nice and fuzzy from the kiss, “I-I I mean just -what?”

Ronon glares at him. Then he drops him down on the bed and starts getting undressed.

“I bought you a cat, McKay,” he says as he strips off his coat, followed by his shirt.

“ _Slomec_ ,” Rodney replies in a small voice as his eyes trail up Ronon's abs, “But how does that-?”

Ronon drops his pants and Rodney forgets everything word he ever knew. Well, except for-

“ _Oh, sweet lord_.”

Ronon smirks. Then he leans down and pulls the blanket off Rodney’s lap, and reaches for his belt.

“On my world we would be legally married.”

“ _Holy fuck_! Really?”

Ronon snorts.

“No,” he laughs as he pulls Rodney’s shirts off over his head, then drops his hands back down to his pants, “I was flirting. I thought you got that. Some genius you are.”

“Well-Well, I get it now!”

He reaches down and helps Ronon shove his pants down and off. Then he reaches up and pulls the smirking Ronon down on top of him.

 

When they get up the next day Sheppard can’t meet their eyes and Rodney remembers that soundproofing is a technology that’s beyond these villagers. He blushes hard, while Ronon just smirks.

**Author's Note:**

> I rewatched Atlantis a couple of years ago and started shipping this pair, and well this fic was born! Tell me what you think


End file.
